A couple of weeks ago, my wife and I were each attending to some things in the evening. I believe she was working on a sermon and I was folding laundry. I put on a familiar movie that would not be too distracting from our tasks. I decided to put on Moana, which has become one of our favorites.
When the movie begins our title character is a toddler starting to learn the way of life expected of a chieftain even as she is constantly drawn to the ocean surrounding their island village. Without giving away anything critical to those who might not have seen the movie yet, there is a particular scene where Moana is playing in the sand staring at the waves when the sea begins to pull back, exposing a conch shell. As she approaches and picks it up, the sea pulls back again exposing another shell. A path forms in the water with the sea to either side as she picks up each shell in turn.
My wife turns to me at this point and says, "This part always makes me anxious." I had to roll this around in my mind for a moment. Why hadn't this made me anxious? As she said it and spoke of the water drawing the girl in and not knowing if it is safe, I shifted my lens to that of a parent. Not to fully assume I understood my wife's point of view, I could see as I looked at this scene with new eyes why this could be anxiety inducing. Here is this child being enticed down a dangerous path. She is being offered pretty trinkets in an effort to make her step further and farther into the waters surrounding the island, waters that are quickly over the girl's head. There are also more sinister scenarios that this could be likened to.
But I had never seen it until that moment. I had always seen that segment simply as a call story (which is what the story intends). In that it is not unlike Baptism. This girl is called into the waters and passes through them to a new path, a new destiny. She is no longer simply the chieftain's daughter who will take up the mantel of leadership in this village someday, but she is a chosen one, called to heal their relationship with the world around them.
As I thought more about it, I realized our views of this scene do not contradict each other. It is not a matter of either/or, but rather a both/and. It is certainly a call story. The sea is choosing Moana, marking her as the one that it has chosen and offering her a gift that will reveal the next steps on her journey when the time comes.
But it is also not safe. And as we think about call stories, as we think about our faith stories, we see that this is always so.
Moses is tending flocks in the wilderness when he happens upon a burning bush. How can a bush that is on fire, especially one that is not consumed by the flames, be safe?
The Israelites are led to the edge of the sea and the sea is parted so that they can pass through the middle of it. How can walking along the seafloor with the sea like a wall to either side be safe?
Samuel is lying in his bed at night when he hears a voice calling his name. He thinks it is his teacher, Eli, but Eli is asleep. How can a strange voice in the night be safe?
I was reminded today of the story introducing Aslan in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Mr. Beaver has been telling the Pevensie children about their world and their true king, Aslan. As they learn that Aslan is a lion, Susan asks if he is quite safe. Mr. Beaver ultimately responds with "Safe? Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good."
I've been thinking as well of our holy meal - the Eucharist, the Lord's Super, Holy Communion. Whatever our words for it, my worship professor used to remind us that it is dangerous food. Accepting it, eating it, it changes us. This is no mere bread and wine. This is the body and blood of God. And it changes us.
As Christians, we are called into the waters. Through Baptism we accept the calling of God in our lives and are joined to the body of Christ, the Church. But this is no safe thing. As important as water is to life, it can also harm. We might forget this in many of our mainline churches today where a person would be hard-pressed to drown in the waters used to baptize. But make no mistake, accepting this call is not safe. Jesus never promises his followers safety. We descend into the waters as Jesus descended into death and then we arise to new life.
Just like Moana, we pass through the waters and emerge with a new calling on our lives. This calling does not offer us safety or security. Recognizing this call, accepting this call, following this call where it leads - I understand the anxiety. It is not safe. But can we do otherwise? Will the safe path change the world and heal the brokenness?